There is the chair,
He used to be there,
Hair gone grey,
Body wasting away,
Cognitively impaired,
But with humour shared.

Strong when he was young,
With punches that stung,
A high standard of Kung Fu,
With kicks that flew,
But time took the skill,
And made him sit still.

He ended in the chair,
And had to stay there,
Until the part that cannot be destroyed,
Finally returned to the void.

Now his spirit is still there,
As always willing to share,
For those with respect,
Are still able to connect.